Arrival in Lima, Peru (April 21, 2011)

After a boring and a little-bit-late flight from Santiago, I am in Lima.  I'd been warned by someone who lives here that even though Chile and Peru are right next to each other, "there is a world apart between Chile and Peru. First world/third world."  From my glipses of the city as I drove to my hotel, he is right.  Now, we're not talking Ghana third world here, but it's a definite step down from Chile in terms of cleanliness, transportation, and modern conveniences.  (Santiago smelled like industrial pollution and Lima smells like fish, so I'd say they are tied in terms of stinkiness, though.)  The airport resembles Ghana's or Sri Lanka's far more than it resembles Santiago's or Sydney's for instance.  But my hotel, while not posh, is perfectly servicable and far from the worst I've stayed in.  And the neighborhood I'm in is apparently fairly nice; nice enough for me to explore on foot in daylight hours, at least.

During my ride here, and looking at the dirt and the shabby buildings and the 15-seater vans that are packed full of people and are on the verge of losing an axel and serve as the local buses (a definite sign of a third world country lol), I started to think about something I've been telling people about my trip.  People I meet who hear I'm traveling for a long time always ask where I've been and where I'm going.  One of the things I tell them is that, looking back, I'm glad I started in Ghana.  Before I left for my trip, I was very prepared for everything to be very different than back home.  And Ghana was indeed very different!  As were Tanzania, Sri Lanka, Cambodia and Bali.  Cairo, Bangkok and Singapore, being big metropolitan cities, were more familiar territory, but each of them was more of a stopover than a long stay.

The second half of my trip -- Australia, New Zealand, French Polynesia, and Chile -- even Easter Island, for all its remoteness and simpleness -- are all quite modern.  Had I done my trip in reverse, I think I would have been far more shocked when I reached the more "exotic" countries because the first half of my trip would have shown me the world is actually quite comfortable and similar to back home.  Peru here at the end might prove to less somewhat less comfortable -- or at least, less like back home -- but that is OK, because I traveled to see different things, not to see the same things on the other side of the world.

I can remember my mom telling us when we were kids -- and anyone else who's listen, really /wink at mom/ -- that when she and dad moved to Paris in the 1970s for several months, they didn't feel culture shock because they expected everything in Europe to be different.  So they were ready for... whatever.  It was when they returned to the States that they felt the culture shock, because they'd forgotten what it was like, and it was quite different from Europe.  I wonder if the same thing will happen to me.  I'll let you know.  ;-)

Day 104 (?): From Santiago's Airport (April 21, 2011)

This might end up being my post for the day, depending on my connection in Lima, Peru, and if anything interesting happens between now and when I fall asleep.  I'm writing from Santiago's airport, which does not offer free wifi, but nearly all of the cafes here do, so I bought a juice and got the wifi password from a cafe.

I don't like it here (the airport, not Santiago itself), not because the airport is a terrible place.  Other than the lack of real free wifi and the less-than ideal signage, the airport is fine.  Well lit, clean, enough seating, non-invasive security check, etc.  I think I'm just having one of those days. 

For example, because I wasn't sure I was at the right gate, I wandered to the next one to check at the counter and I left my laptop there.  I realized it about 2 minutes later, and I went back and it was where I left it but still... that was careless of me!  And earlier, before I came to the gate area, my chocolate caliente was very bad.  Not even like Swiss Miss powder mix (which I actually like, but recognize it's not the highest quality).  Just warm brown water.  :(

The worst was when I exchanged some money.  I'd forgotten to exchange my French Polynesian francs when I left Tahiti (a common error on my part, forgetting to exchange my money) and, knowing that a lot of planes from Santiago go to Tahiti, I tried to exchange it here to some chilean pesos.  I thought I had about 44 U.S. dollars worth of francs, but when I exchanged it for pesos, I only got about $14 in pesos back.  Thinking I'd made a mistake with my mental math, and that I either forgot how much my francs were worth or how much pesos were worth, I looked up all the exchange rates at www.xe.com/ucc (an up-to-date site for exchange rates).  Turns out, I was right -- my francs were worth about $44!  Now, I'd understand if I'd gotten, say $38 worth of pesos for my $44 worth of francs.  Exchange rates at airports aren't great, after all.  But to get $14 instead of $44?  There had to be a mistake, right?  So I returned to the exchange counter and learned that no... the rate this bank gives between pesos and francs really is that terrible; it was not a mistake.  Lucky for me, the guys at the counter returned my francs for the pesos.  I'm bound to get a better rate somewhere, and losing $30 was just silly.

Finally, my plane was supposed to leave 2 minutes ago and I don't think it's even at the gate yet.  My first delay of the journey!

I did have one minor victory:  By buying tonight's dinner here at a little cafe to take with me on the airplane, I managed to spend all but some loose change of my chilean money, so that's one less currency I need to worry about exchanging later.  I hope it doesn't continue to be one of those days...

Day 103: Santiago, Chile (April 20, 2011)

If you read my last post, you'll know I spent most of the day in bed.  /rolls eyes at self/  But I felt normal again by dinnertime, so I went out to a local restuarant and bar.  Chile -- or at least Santiago -- is far from the cheapest place I've visited, but the prices are quite reasonable by U.S. standards.  I had a ravioli dish and two (that's two!) glasses of wine, plus tip, for about $26.  There are a lot of places to eat and drink here, and the food is good.

One thing I noticed about the place I went to was the cigarette smoke.  I sat at the bar, where smoking is allowed.  Not everyone smoked -- just a few people.  But I've gotten so used to no one around me smoking that I really noticed it.  Cigarette smoke usually doesn't bother me -- unless the air is just completely full of it.  In fact, one of my secret pleasures is walking down the street and breathing in a whiff of cigarette smoke -- just a whiff and it can smell really good!  But I wonder if spending almost four months with exposure to almost no smoke will make me less tolerant of it when I return home?  Looking back on the places I've been, I saw very little smoking.  Almost none until I got to Australia.  And even there I saw very little, although I did walk past one or two people who just reeked of smoke (ugh!) and it smelled much worse than usual.  That was the first time I wondered how I'd respond to the smell of smoke when I once again was in a place where a lot of people smoked:  Would it still be OK or would it bother me?  It didn't bother me tonight at the bar, but I can smell it in my hair.  :(

This whole smoke thing reminds me of my impression of Santiago generally.  Although I can't say it's been my favorite stop, it seems like a decent city.  But the pollution is awful!  I can smell it just walking around town.  The Andes mountains aren't far away, yet they can barely be seen through all of the smog.

This would be a fantastic view, if we could only see it.

Apparently, the Andes act as a trap for the pollution, which would otherwise blow away if the mountains weren't in the way.  But I blame the city for the pollution, not the mountains.  The pollution wouldn't be a problem if the city weren't so dirty in the first place, you know?

Pre-Columbian Art

 

It's almost 3pm and I'm still in bed with the worst cramps I've had in months.  They didn't bother me too much earlier in my trip, but today they really hurt.  I can't stand up straight and I can't button my pants (and due to losing a few pounds recently, my pants normally have plenty of room).  Sigh...  I'm usually OK by dinnertime, though.

So now's a good time to write about a couple things I learned at the Museum of Pre-Columbian Art.  First, remember learning in school that no on in the Americas had invented the wheel before the europeans arrived?  Except for wheels they hung on walls and used as calendars?  Well, OK, maybe you don't remember that, but it's one of the few things that I remember.  Well imagine my surprise when I saw this in the museum:

It's a child's toy, about 6 inches high, and it is definitely on wheels, with axels! 

I did some research online and it turns out there are a whole bunch of toys like this one.  But for whatever reason, the people who made these toys never made any larger versions to be used as carts.  I always figured they'd never discovered the basic mechanism of the wheel at all.

The other thing I learned about at the museum was this game the pre-Colombians used to play called juego de pelota or Mesoamerican ball game.  It started around 1,000 B.C. and was played all over Central America.  The museum didn't have any artifacts, but this wall plaque explained the game and ended with "Two teams faced each other until the losing side died by decapitation."  (emphasis mine.)  Elsewhere, the museum had this drawing:

So, yeah.  What people know about the game is kind of vague but apparently this game was part of some sacrificial ritual (at least sometimes, other times it was just a game).  It's still played today, although I don't think there are any more decapitations.

Well, it's more than an hour after I started writing this post (I got distracted by the internet a bit) and I'm feeling better.  :)  It's probably too late to sight-see, but it's not too late to find myself a nice dinner.

Day 102: Santiago, Chile (April 19, 2011)

To answer a question from a reader, the last photo in my last post is the Virgin Mary, or Maria as she's called in spanish-speaking countries.  She stands atop San Christobol Hill, which overlooks Santiago and which can be scaled by a funicular.  There is also a small church atop the hill, but I think most people go to see the statue of Maria and the view of Santiago.

This was really steep -- maybe as much as 45 degrees.

At night, she can be seen by much of the city, floating atop the hill.

In addition to exploring the hill, I spent most of the day walking around downtown Santiago and visiting a couple of the more famous cultural sites.  Santiago has about 4 million people and is very spread out, but the center of the city is fairly compact and walkable, or can be easily transversed on the Metro.  It reminded me a lot of Washington, D.C., or maybe some generic european city.  Fairly pretty, with some random ugly buildings from the 1960s thrown in.  A combination of wide streets and narrow streets.  And a river running through the middle of the city.

This might be the Parliament building.  Not certain, though.

The Plaza de Armas.

The neighborhood Barrio Bellavista is one of the cooler neighborhoods, and is a popular spot for dining and drinking.  I liked it for its fun architecture and street art:

My first stop of the day was the Museum of Pre-Columbian Art, which houses art -- mostly pottery, stonework, coppers and textiles -- from all over Central and South America and dating back to as early as 5,000 B.C.  I didn't know a lot of pre-Columbian art (and still don't) and I was impressed by how detailed and exquisite it is.  I'm going to describe more of the museum in another post, because I learned some unusual things there, and want to talk about them in more detail. 

After the museum I walked through the town and headed up the hill, then back down to see the restored La Chascona, which is the house of the famous chilean poet and politician Pablo Neruda.  Actually I wonder how famous he is, because I never heard of him, although he did win the Nobel Prize for literature.  I am pretty ignorant about pretty much everything having to do with South America, despite it being relatively close to home and with a relatively accessable (ie, european-based) culture.  Ah well, I'm learning a bit now.

Back to Pablo's home:  He was a man who loved boats and everything to do with the sea, but being on the sea made him sick.  So he built himself a home that is like a boat.  Small rooms, low ceilings, passageways, bunks, etc.  The home is actually made up of three mini-homes.  Two of them contain living quarters and the third is mostly his library and study.  He's been dead for almost 40 years, and Pinochet troops sacked his home shortly after he died.  But his widow and a foundation established in his name restored the home in the 1980s.  It's a very cool little place.

Two of the three mini-houses.

The third mini-house:  The office and library.

Two stories from Pablo Neruda's home that I want to remember:  One of Matilda (his wife)'s china sets is an unusual pattern:  The china is a while base but the decor is super colorful, reminiscent of peacocks, only done in Austin Powers era colors and styles.  I really noticed it because about 5 weeks ago, I saw the exact same pattern in an antique store near Miriam and Mark's.  I really admired it at the time but of course I didn't think about buying it because it was quite expensive, I was far from home, and I don't really have a home at the moment anyway.  But it was neat to see such an unusual pattern twice in about 5 weeks, when I'd never seen it before at all.

The other story is about Pablo's wife Matilda.  My guide (I was the lone english-speaking visitor late this afternoon; there don't seem to be a lot of tourists here) told me that Matilda had been his mistress since the early 1940s, while Pablo was still married to his second wife.  Then Pablo got a divorce in about 1955, and married Matilda in 1966. They stayed together until Pablo's death in 1973.  Since they were together for so long, I asked my guide why it took Pablo so long to get a divorce and to marry Matilda.  Apparently, when Pablo had been married the first time, to a woman from Europe, he divorced her to marry his second wife -- a woman 20 years his senior.  But Chile did not recognize that first divorce because it was done by mail to Europe, but Pablo didn't know it until after his second marriage.  Hmm, I guess I missed how/where he got his second divorce from his second wife, but whatever... that happened in 1955.  In the meantime, Chile treated Pablo as still married to his first wife until the year she died 1965 -- then he married Matilda the following year.  Matilda died in the mid 1980s and Pablo's second wife lived to be about 100 years old, and died in the 1990s.

Finally, for you food or chocolate lovers, I have to share the chocolate drink I had today:  Chocolate caliente (recipe in link).  It sounds really simple -- just blocks of chocolate melted and whipped into a froth -- and it was really yummy.  Considering how simple it sounds to make, I can't believe I never had it before.  See how the chocolate clings to the spoon?  I didn't try to drink it, I ate it like a thick soup.  Thick chocolate soup.

Day 101: From Easter Island to Santiago, Chile (April 18, 2011)

Today was mostly a traveling day.  I took one last walk around the town in Easter Island, then stopped at a cafe to read a book about the town's history.  I didn't finish the whole book, of course, but I got through  the time of its discovery by europeans.  And I did my "speed reading" trick for most of it, where I just read the first sentence of each paragraph.  It worked in high school lit classes for boring stuff like The House of the Seven Gables.

The church in Hanga Roa (Easter Island's "city")

Between noon and 9pm, I was enroute from Easter Island to Santiago (I sprang ahead two hours, too.  Or at least I think I did -- I actually have no idea if I'm writing this at 10:40 or 11:40 local time).  Since I arrived in Santiago so late, I only had time to run down the street to grab dinner.  Walking back, I happened to notice this hovering far above the city:

I'm armed with a map and a guidebook of the city, and hope to have fun exploring the next couple of days. 

Day 100 (100!): Easter Island (April 17, 2011)

I spent today putzing around.  Chatting with my fellow guests before they all left this afternoon, walking around town, trying new dishes, getting my passport stamped with the Easter Island seal, etc.  (Easter Island belongs to Chile, but has its own fun stamp if you want it.)  I didn't go out and look for more heads or other ruins, although I could have.  There is one other quarry that I did not see and one more major set of Moai.  But they are both in the interior and hard to reach.  Mostly, though, I felt like I saw a really robust selection of Moai, plus a lot of other stuff I didn't even know was on the Island.  I'm quite satisfied with my time here.  One could easily stay longer than four days, if they were a real Moai or Pacific Island enthusiast.  But four days was a decent amount of time.

Since I think this place is so cool, here are more random photos from my time here:

The quarry mountain is in the backgroun.

An ancient ground oven.  Heat it with rocks, put the food inside, cover it with dirt.  Viola!

The natives built these stone circles to trap moisture, allowing plants to grow faster and bigger.  As you can see, they still work.

This is the only kneeling Moai found on the island.  It might have been the first Moai.

My little point-and-shoot camera caught this shot.